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"Cool." He grabbed the container and shoveled its contents into his massive jaws, bones and all, in a sickening display of Feraligatr appetite. "Whew, mon! That's some good... uh, Fletchinder? Ahem, sorry, not really used to the stomach yet. Guess that's a Feraligatr thing, huh?"

"Honestly? Just happy I'm alive. This is a... whole 'nother thing, but... y-yeah." He eyed the forgotten chicken on the table. "I'm starving, though. You mind if I...?"

"Weird name for a Charmander, but I guess you didn't pick it, huh? I get it, you know, I'm kinda surprised you didn't bring up pickles there." He sits back, still looking troubled as he tries to peer out the window.

"Uh... now that I think about it... yeah... few months, yeah, I'm sure. Ahem, I-I'm sorry, the whole last couple days are kinda fuzzy." With another look around at the shaken tenants, he eyes the drinks at other tables, then instinctively makes for his bag, only to realize it and all its money...

He blinked hard, rubbing at his head in confusion as the last of the darkness around him fizzled out. "Cibus? Universe? I... what? Are you, like, drunk or...?" Only getting more confused, he glanced around. "Okay. This must be Nephrite Town, they've got a bar... the air's thicker than I...

The Feraligatr laid on the ground for a minute, motionless as if dead until his eyes flew open and he sat up, flipping over the table as he made a strangled, guttural noise. As he slowly calmed himself down, he blinked, looking around at his unfamiliar surroundings. With every set of eyes in...